Sprig nudged me. “Atta boy. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you grin like that.”
“Shut up.”
Sprig shut up, but he was a man of few words anyway, so I didn’t take the win. Restless, I stood so I could see the gate over his head and scanned the lane. Rae was a big boy, and this was his turf, but the afternoon was closing in already, and it was getting cold. I didn’t like the idea of him walking around on his own, especially as he’d lost his coat to the fox cub Fletch had named Jeffery.
Ignoring Sprig’s good-natured ribbing, I grabbed a dry hoodie from the van, bid him goodbye for the night, and set off to meet Rae. We could come back if he wanted, but hoofing it to my car and driving back to London was at the top of my list. Food, beer, bed. Perhaps we’d even talk.
The wind picked up as I walked, numbing my face. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and kept my head down, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for Rae’s dark head, planning how we’d reconnect after all the angst was over with. Yeah, that’s right. For once in my life I was actually prepared for a difficult conversation. For once in my life I knew what I was going to say, and what I wanted to hear in return.I want to try. And all I needed was for Rae to want the same. Fuck knew, neither of us was perfect.
Spending most of my adult life outside, I’d developed a good sense of when the world around me changed. My head snapped up before I heard voices, and my footsteps slowed. Ahead was a clearing that split into two paths. One led to the dairy farm, the other to Goon’s land.
The voices were on the dairy farm’s land, but something pulled me up short. I stopped walking altogether, and the undergrowth seemed to close in on me. I wasn’t scared of the Goon squad, but I was alone and unarmed, and Rae was out there somewhere. If they caught me, they’d catch him. I was cynical enough to believe the police were long gone.
I crept forward, keeping to the bushes as much as I could without rustling the leaves. The voices grew louder, one I couldn’t place, and another with an accent that made my toes curl.
Idiot. As if he’d be here.
But the Manchester accent still made my skin crawl. Probably always would.
I took another step forward. The group were ten feet away, half hidden by the trees, none of them facing my way.
From the back, they didn’t look like Goon squad. With their long hair and boots, they were more like us.
Or like they were trying to look like us.
My heart stopped. Legit went silent.No. I sucked in a breath that seemed to go nowhere and craned my head to get a better view. The man nearest to me spoke again, and this time I was close enough to hear him properly. To absorb the low, rumbly voice that had once struck me as the most comforting thing on earth.It can’t be.But fuck me, it was. It washim.My lover, my best friend, and the wanker who’d drained my heart dry.
It was Zander.
And worse than that, as the person he was addressing stepped forward, revealing themselves to my hidden eyes, I realised that the man I’d learned to hate in a heart-stopping instant, was deep in conversation with the man I’d truly believed I could love.
He was talking to Rae.
***
Shock was a funny thing. True to the word, but then not, as though I could convince myself I’d known all along. I turned away slowly, like my body was trapped in a bubble of treacle, and I didn’t start running until I hit open space—a path that led who-the-hell-knew-where.
Adrenaline had been my friend for the past few months, driving me on when my legs didn’t want to run anymore. Throwing me in front of quad bikes and horses, and over fences that should’ve been too high. It carried me now, through the woods and out the other side, onto land I didn’t recognise.
My lungs burned, and lactic acid sluiced through my veins, but I welcomed the pain. Hid my heart amongst it, and prayed I’d never find the way out.
But reality was cruel. I ran myself into a kissing gate, and then clung to it, doubled over, as my chest heaved, and my knees trembled. My mind raced, a thousand questions fighting for dominance. What was hedoing here? And why was he with Rae? Did they know each other? Was Rae a fucking plant? Had Rae known my story all along and used me to keep his gang afloat until he’d rinsed them too?
I had no answers. And searching for them left me dizzy. Out of nowhere, I threw up, barely missing my shoes. It seemed to go on and on. When it was finally over, I came upright like a staggering drunk, wiping my eyes. But my vision didn’t clear. Evening had fallen while I’d lost my mind, and it was pitch black now. I could hardly see my own shaking hands.
Brilliant. I was lost in every sense of the word, and I didn’t much care.
The urge to lie down on the frost-crunchy grass and close my eyes was strong. Too strong. I waited for numbness to overwhelm the pain in my chest so I could give up already, but it didn’t come, and I found myself climbing the gate and pressing on, either in the hope of seeing a landmark I recognised, or of falling down the kind of ravine rural Bedfordshire didn’t have.
A hysterical laugh escaped me. I clapped my hand over my mouth, but it burst free, and then another and another, until I was doubled over again, my hands on my knees. Numbness eluded me, but a sensation of floating came in its place. The hurt was still there, razor sharp and cruel, but an odd detachment settled over me—a feeling that scared more than comforted me.
Fuck, boy. You need help.
My uncle’s voice brought me some perspective, but it wasn’t him I needed. I fumbled for my phone and found Dom’s name as footsteps sounded behind me.
Heavy footsteps.
A thick hand closed around my throat before I could make the call.
